monsters have shoved their claws into my ambitions
you have turned my body into butter
unsalted, not the good kind
my arm reminds me of a tree carved my young men,
hungry to be remembered and to leave an ugly mark
dripping like sap
i feel like Jenny
“dear god, make me a bird, so i can fly far, far away from here”
because i am ******* sick and tired to being forced to look forward to telling my excruciating narrative,
like pulling my nails from my nail beds
and remember, it is my ******* story,
not yours,
it will never be yours
i am not your final girl
i am not even your girl
and i hate to break it to you,
but i never will be
i am the daughter of Khaleesi, and Aaliyah, and Beyoncé,
women who have walked through fire and have come out the other side, unscathed,
women who continue to take no **** form anybody
the world is a *****,
but over realized,
so am i,
yet more than anything,
i have been the cattiest ***** to myself for years ,
and i’ve finally decided,
i am ******* fed up with taking my own abuse
